Classic Poem

O Thou that art from God endow'd
With wealth and pow'r above the crowd,
Why is thy heart elate with pride,
If all these goods are misapplied?

Whereas benevolence divine
The mercy-beams that daily shine,
Are in proportion to the might
Of God, and gen'ral as the light

No more let thy conceptíon frame,
Nor tongue divulge thy neighbour's shame,
No more in keen invectives deal,
But learn to cover and conceal.

No more from virtue's precepts err,
But goodness and the Lord prefer;
Thy commerce in the world amend,
Nor truth nor decency offend.

No more let time be misemploy'd
In words which wisdom should avoid,
Whose tenour may thy neighbours hurt,
And nothing but the truth assert.

Henceforward may thy soul expect,
And find the love of God direct
To snatch thee to a better birth,
From Christians militant on earth

The saints elect in heav'n shall see
The penitent's felicity,
And joy for such a sheep as this,
More than for ninety-nine in bliss.

Behold a man restor'd at length,
Who took not Jesus for his strength;
But put his trust in worldly store,
Behold him change to change no more.

For me—I like an olive thrive
With all my verdure still alive,
And rooted in the church I place
My trust in Christ's eternal grace.

My praises for thy mercies past,
Through all futurity shall last;
And on thy name my hope shall dwell,
For all thy servants like it well.